The king stood astonished, his heart filled with wonder, pondering what course of action he should take. Yet, certainty dawned upon him—there could be no doubt about the truth before him. Immersed in devotion, he began to praise the Lord of all gods, offering heartfelt worship to the Supreme, the essence of Om, who is beyond the reach of mere reasoning. With reverence, he bowed to the universal form, Virupaksha, the fierce-seeded one, honored by the lords of yoga and known as the increaser of strength. He offered salutations to the blue-throated Lord, the master of beasts, and to the one who transcends creation and dissolution, the lord of all beings. He paid homage to the one holding a skull, the bearer of noose and club, and to the five-faced god, the lord of sacred fields. The king honored the one of countless forms and appearances, the qualityless, the supreme self, offering salutations to Hiranyagarbha, the lord of gold. He praised the one whose very form is meditation, the eternal witness of all contemplation, by whom the entire universe—both moving and unmoving—shines forth. Like rain from a cloud, born of the Supreme Principle and the Person, this Lord is called the illuminator, the sun of human eyes, by those who know the truth. He bowed to the conqueror of death, the great god, supreme among the supreme, all-pervading. "O Kaparddin," he said, "I bow to you; salutations to the newly born." He offered worship to Manyu, to Isha, to the lord of swift ones, to the thread of sacrifice, and to the one whose seed is fire, the soul of greatness. He revered the steadfast and the moving, the great and the small, the manifest and the unmanifest, the living and the non-living. To the independent one, the singular, the quality among qualities, he bowed again and again. Moved by the king’s unwavering and intense austerity, Shiva appeared before him. Shiva had three eyes, a noble form, and wore a serpent as his sacred thread. Draped in elephant hide, his lotus feet were worshipped by the gods. The king rose quickly, standing before Shiva with hands joined in reverence. Recognizing the king’s deep devotion, Śaṅkara, the moon-crested Lord, spoke: "I am truly pleased with you—by your hymn and your austerity as well." With palms joined, the king addressed the Lord of lords, humbly requesting, "Grant me Gaṅgā for the liberation of my ancestors." Shiva replied, "Liberation is granted to you and to them," and then vanished from sight. Gaṅgā, purifying the entire world, followed Bhagiratha. She became renowned throughout the three worlds as Bhāgīrathī. That supreme river, Gaṅgā, flooded the land, and at that very moment, those souls sunk in hell were lifted up, freed from their sins. Bathed in Gaṅgā’s sacred waters, they were honored by Bhagiratha. After bowing and worshipping them properly, he addressed them with a joyful heart: "Freed, ascend the celestial chariot and go to Viṣṇu’s abode." Assuming divine bodies, they journeyed to Viṣṇu’s world. Thus, Gaṅgā became famed in all worlds as the destroyer of great sins.